The Gift
by Deaf Angel
Summary: "Peter wasn't sure why he had gotten it, but he had." It's almost Neal's birthday, and Peter gets him something. Set pre-series, not slash, rating for one little swear word. Allittle humor, but mainly general. R&R!


Peter walked briskly to his car, overly aware of the medium sized plastic bag in his right hand. He still wasn't quite sure _why_ he had bought it, but he had.

'It isn't like I've had ever sent Neal a birthday present before, so why start now?' He asked himself as he unlocked the car door and opened it, climbing in. He set the gift on the passenger's seat and started the car. As he drove towards home, he kept glancing over at the bag, as if it would start doing flips or something if he looked away.

Not for the first time, he wondered why he'd gotten it. He and Neal hadn't had much contact since the con-man went to prison, with the exception of the Christmas, anniversary and birthday cards that Neal somehow still managed to get to him, though they were no longer accompanied by the man himself, often helping himself to Peter's coffee while doing so. Nor were they delivered by the thief, rather through the mail service.

Peter guessed it must be because it was going to be the first birthday that Neal had to spend in prison and for some reason; he felt the need to commemorate it. Yes, that must be it. It wasn't that he at all cared about the kid's birthday, as that would be ridiculous. Because Peter did _not_ care about Caffrey, or his birthday. At all. Not one bit. The kid was just another criminal. A pretty damn hard one to catch, but still just a criminal.

As he stopped at a red light, he once again looked over at the bag. He sighed and turned on his turning signal. He needed to get to the post office.  
*LineBreak!*  
*Two days later*  
Neal Caffrey lay in his, rather uncomfortable, bed, staring up at the celling, bored out of his mind. After nearly a year in prison, he still found it hard to deal with the boredom. It was almost lunch and, though the food wasn't great, with it also came the mail, if you had any. And Neal was expecting some mail, as it was almost his birthday. He knew that Kate would send him something, and he was hoping Mozzie would as well, but that was doubtful.

So, when the guard came with Neal's food, he handed three small packages into the cell, along with the convict's lunch. "Three?" Neal asked, eyebrows raised. The guard shrugged, "I don't send them, I just deliver." Neal nodded. "Thanks, Mike," he called as the guard walked away. Mike, back still turned, raised his hand in a sort of 'you're welcome' gesture, grabbing a letter and a plate of food off the cart he pulled beside him for the next man down the line.

Smiling, Neal turned back to his packages. He picks the first one up, using his razor to open it. When he saw what was inside, he laughed. There was no note, but there was only one person Neal could think of who would send him a miniature copy of van Gogh's Starry, Starry Night. He would have to thank Mozzie when he got out.

Neal picked up the next package, repeating the process of using his razor to cut the tape on the box. He dug around in the packing peanuts, looking for what had been sent. Again, he smiled when he pulled out the gift. He seemed to be smiling a lot today. It was a miniature plastic wine bottle, the kind you got at vineyard gift shops when you couldn't afford the real wine. It looked like it was meant to be an ornament for a Christmas tree, but the wire that would have held it up looked to have been taken by security.

For a second, Neal wondered who it was from, but when he saw the brand, he didn't have a doubt. The tiny bottle was an 82' Bordeaux. He didn't even have to look at the note, which was only a piece of paper with the words "Happy Birthday, Neal" written on it, signed "from, K". He set the tiny bottle and the card on his little desk, where he could look at it every day.

Turning away from the bottle, he picked up the last package, wondering who it was from. He had known Kate would send him something, and it looked as if Mozzie had as well, but who could this one be from? Alex, maybe? No, she hadn't spoken to him since Copenhagen; he doubted she was suddenly sending him birthday gifts. But, if not Alex, than who? He didn't have a close relationship with anyone in the con-world, aside from the afore mentioned, and outside the con-world... well, how many friends did you expect him to have?

Giving in to curiosity, he quickly opened the box and withdrew... a set of colored pencils. And these were no Crayola, no sir. These were professional grade Verithin Prismacolor pencils, top of the line. Neal stared at the pencils in awe. These pencils just might cure his boredom problem. If only he had the right paper... On a whim, he looked in the box again and, sure enough, there was a pad of sketching paper sitting at the bottom.

Neal shook his head, his eyes shining as he stared at the pencils and paper. He ran a hand over the sketch pad, feeling the paper under his fingers. He sat, trying to figure out who had sent him this. After contemplating this for a full five minutes, he realized that there might have been a note. He grabbed the box from its place beside him, and rifled through it, eventually finding an envelope. Excitedly, he opened the envelope, pulled out the card and read.

The card, which was just a cheap thing you would pick up at an art museum gift shop, fluttered to the floor of the cell when he realized who the gift was from. As he picked the card up, he read it again. "Happy Birthday, Neal. Sorry it has to be spent in prison. -Peter," Neal read the card aloud, under his breath. _Peter_ had sent him a birthday present.

Neal smiled. Maybe he was getting through to the stubborn FBI agent. He picked up his new pencils and started on a thank you card for Peter. He'd do Kate's later.  
*LineBreak!*  
AN:  
Hey, guys! I'm back!

To anyone who is/was reading my other story, "Remember Me?" I just want to say I'M SO SORRY! I really am! I just hit a roadblock and I can't get past it! Does anyone have any tips for getting past writers block? If so, please PM me!

If anyone is interested in reading "Remember Me?", it's Percy Jackson and NCIS crossover that I am in the midst of writing and it probably won't be updated for a while.

On other news, I recently finished watching season 3 of White Collar and, spoilers if you have seen the end of it, I CAN'T BELIEVE HE RAN! I mean, Peter practically _told_ him to, but I didn't think he would _run! _I thought he would go back to June's and wait for Kramer to leave or something, not run! And then the seasons 1 and 2 finales had me FREAKING OUT! I really hated Jeff Easton when he killed Kate. I was like "What?" I just didn't get it. I still don't. What did killing Kate do for the plot? I still can't figure it out. And then that mess with Adler and the treasure... It's almost like they _want_ us to die of surprise!

Well, I'm off to start watching season 4, so see ya next time, as I'm sure there will be one!


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